No less of a man
by Secret Agent Rei
Summary: Luke awakens to a familiar problem that leaves him feeling less confident about himself. Maybe a heart to heart with those he loves can help him back on track. Rated T. Involves a transgender character. (Sorry for bad summary)


**A/N: Hey, I am back with a Professor Layton story! Ever since seeing a headcanon that Luke was a transboy on tumblr, I just had to write it as I love the idea so much! I hope you enjoy. I apologise for any errors, I wanted to get this out to everyone. It is slight AU: Luke never left with his parents, his father never got the promotion. It is set after Lost future because Clive is in the story.**

When he woke up, Luke knew this day was going downhill.

The young teenager rolled over, ignoring the stabbing senstation in his stomach and got out of bed, his hair tousled.

As Luke opened the door to his room, he felt the pain again. He curled in on himself, he knew exactly what was happening.

 _Please, not now. I need to be tip top for the investigation today._ Luke silently begged himself. The boy quickly ran to the bathroom and checked. Yep. He was on his period. shit.

Luke felt tears prick in his eyes. This was what he hated most about not transitioning yet; periods. It was the one time Luke was reminded of the fact that he would always be connected to being a girl in some way.

He looked at his tear-streaked face in the mirror and quickly washed the puffyness in his eyes away, brushed out his nest of a head, sorted...that out, and left to dress for the day.

On his way back, he bumped into Clive, whom the Professor had taken under his wing after the ex-convict served his sentence and went to regular councilling, he was yawning and scratching his stomach as he absently made his way to the bathroom.

"Morning Luke." He greeted gruffly and fondly ruffled Luke's hair.

"Morning." Luke responded quietly as he fixed his ruined hair. He was always jealous of how well-built Clive was. If he was ever going to properly transition, that was what he wanted to look like.

Once back in his room, he proceeded to dress for the day. Cap, binder, white shirt, blue jumper and shorts. The usual. He walked over to his plain blue bed and packed his satchel with the necessary items; notebook, pen, tablets, Tedd, camera (force of habit he gained from spending time with Emmy) and his phone. It was one of those old brick Nokias, but it did the job of phoning Flora. With one last longing look to his room, the baby blue walls, comfy bed, curtains drawn open letting in the morning sun, he left the room and went downstairs, resisting the urge to slide down the banister. He didn't want to sit through a scolding of how it is 'dangerous' and 'unbecomming of a gentleman'.

As soon as he entered the kitchen he was bombarded with the farmilliar and disgusting stench of Flora's pancakes. And today was not a day he wanted to deal with those. As soon as the smell hit his nostrils he took off to the bin and retched.

A warm hand was on his back and a soothing voice helped ease the pain of both his stomach emptying itself of acid and the contracting of a uterus he didn't need nor want.

"That's it Luke, let it out. Shh, there's a good lad." Professor Layton soothed as he contnued to rub his apprentice's back.

When Luke was finished retching he lifted his head and fell into the Professor's open arms. He felt safe here. In the Professor's arms, he wasn't a girl, he wasn't Bridget, he was Luke. He started crying.

"Shh, dear Lord, My Boy, what ever has got you in such a state?" He asked gently and rubbed the boy's back. Luke couldn't stop sobbing enough to coherently speak. Hershel turned and smiled at his adoptive daughter who watched the exchange with worried eyes. "Flora, My Dear, could you please make a pot of berry sweet tea?" He asked. She nodded and started making it.

The Professor led Luke through to the sitting room. There were two armchairs opposite each other and were a deep red, the same as the sofa in-between them and was opposite the fireplace which was lit and producing a lovely warmth to numb the cold of the wintery London morning. Hershel sat Luke on the sofa and then he sat next to the boy, who huddled close to his mentor. The warmth from both his Professor and the fireplace eased his stomach cramps, the pain reduced slightly to a duller ache. His sobs were now small whimpers and he tried to desperately compose himself.

 _I am a boy, I am a_ gentleman, _and gentlemen do not cry._ Luke thought miserably.

"Now, my boy, would you care to explain what the matter is?" The older man asked.

"It's not really important Professor." Luke mumbled and looked away. Now that he thought about it, it really was just him making a fuss over something trivial.

Before the Professor could inquire further, Flora came through holding a tray with boiling tea on. She placed it down and sat on the other side of Luke and took his smaller and clammy hand in her own.

"Thank you, Flora," He smiled at her then turned his soft eyes to Luke. "Luke, can you please tell me why you are upset."

"I wouldn't want you to worry. A gentleman never lets his loved ones worry needlessly over him." Luke said. The Professor's smile was replaced with a frown and he looked to Flora hoping she would have some clue as to what was ailing Luke. This certainly was a puzzle that the archeologist was struggling to figure out.

"Come now, My Boy. Whether you want me to or not, I worry over you as I do Flora and Clive. I care about you and if something has upset you, it is my duty as a gentleman to help you in any way I can." The Professor scolded gently, wanting the boy to be rid of any idea that his problems are insignificant.

Just then, Clive had trudged down the stairs and through to the living room and into an armchair. The young man saw Luke crying; the concerned looks the other two were giving him and deduced that something had happened to Luke.

"Everything alright, Luke?" Clive asked quietly as though not to startle him.

"Yes. I am okay, thanks." Luke's voice was muffled by Hershel's jacket, but they all heard.

"Please, do tell us what is troubling you, Luke, maybe we can help you." The Professor pressed lightly. Flora got up and handed Luke a cup of steaming tea, which he sat up to drink. He took a few sips and sighed in content, the sweet taste danced on his tastebuds and spread a warmth through his core, alleviating more of the pain.

Everyone waited patiently for Luke to be comfortable before he spoke. He sipped his tea a few more times and cleared his throat awkwardly.

 _This is not going to be fun to explain._

"Well, I...Uh...got my period this morning." Luke said awkwardly and blushed lightly. Flora squeezed his hand in understanding and smiled at him.

"Are you in any pain? I can get you something to soothe it." Flora offered and excused herself to fetch some tablets.

"Is that it?" Clive wanted to grumble. He didn't see why it was a huge deal, but it meant something to Luke, so he settled for trying to help. "This doesn't make you any less of a boy, Luke." He tried to say it with sincerity so the hormonal boy would understand. Luke nodded numbly.

"But how many boys get their period? None. I must be some freak." His voice wavered at the end and it took a lot to not burst into tears again. Everything; the pain from his stomach, the struggle of being in the wrong body, not being out to his parents. It all added up and the pressure was becomming unbearable.

The Professor hummed in agreement and held the boy close to him.

"Luke, listen to me as I shall only tell you this once. You are a gentleman in training. Having a menstrual cycle does not make you any less of a gentleman. Yes, it appears you are struggling at present. However, in a few years when you begin your transition, the turmoil and pain will be worth it. Remember, My Boy, a true gentleman has patience to persevere." The Professor squeezed the boy gently to show him, he cared.

After a heartwarming conversation with Flora and Clive and _proper_ pancakes cooked by Clive, the Professor and Luke prepared their belongings, said goodbye, and set off for their newest adventure, Clive reassuring the caretaker of the trio that he would ensure Flora would be safe at all times.

Luke stepped out into the chilly but sunny winter morning and realised with a smile, he could do this. He was surrounded by acceptence. In the years to come, when he would have to come out to his parents and his other friends in Misthallery, with the Professor, Flora and Clive by his side, he knew that he could accomplish his task; become Luke.

 **A/N: There you have it. Hope you enjoyed. Please leave a review telling me what you thought. No uneccesary flames please as they will be deleted. Constructive criticism would be appreciated. Reviews inspire me to carry on writing, and help me have confidence in my writing.**


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